


Satan's Favorite

by LilGray1326



Category: Moonlight (TV), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Fantasy, Holidays, Only slight mentions of Logan Echolls and Bella Swan, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:46:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilGray1326/pseuds/LilGray1326
Summary: A spelling mistake leads to a family tradition that lasts through the centuries.





	Satan's Favorite

**Author's Note:**

> Series: Part of a Currently Unpublished WIP  
> Characters: Josef Kostan, Beth Turner, OC (JoJo Kostan), very slight mentions of Logan Echolls and Bella Swan  
> Relationships: Josef Kostan/Beth Turner  
> Banner By: Kittyinaz  
> Word Count: 1,558  
> Prompt/inspiration: Written for Kittyinaz’s 2017 Christmas Writing Challenge using/inspired by the prompt: 05.) Satan (or a character of your choice) traveling around the world every Christmas to deliver presents to all the young kids who misspell Santa on their Christmas letter every year.  
> Status: Complete  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Moonlight, Twilight, or Veronica Mars. The recognizable characters, settings, locations, plot lines, quotes, etc. from each of the franchises above belong to their respective owners, not me.  
> Author’s Notes: Future Fic

 

**____________________________**

**Satan’s Favorite**

**Wednesday, December 18, 2013; around 4:30 p.m.**

**Josef’s PoV**

**____________________________**

 

Whoever would have thought that I’d be grateful that Beth had dated and slept with Joshua Lindsey?  Or that he died right after impregnating her?  Well, as I sat there looking at our son I had to admit that I was grateful, for both things.

Unfortunately, when JoJo entered my office after school, he had tears pouring down his cute little five-year-old face.  I stood from my desk and walked towards him before squatting down to his level and opening my arms to him.

He immediately ran into my arms and held on tight, so I picked him up and walked back to my chair before sitting with him in my lap.  Gently, I pulled his face away from my neck and then using my thumbs wiped his tears from his little red cheeks before asking, “Peanut, what’s happened to make you cry?” 

What I was thinking, however, was more along the lines of _‘Who do I need to kill?’_

Beth had requested before JoJo was born that I not mention committing murder around our children, though, so I held my tongue and waited for him to answer the question I _did_ ask out loud.

Sniffling he looked at me with his watery blue eyes that were so much like his mother’s and said, “We-we wrote letters to Santa at school today.”

I thought, _‘Um, okay, and this has caused my son to cry why?’_   I had learned in my five years as an unlikely parent that it was best to wait him out, so I nodded and waited for him to elaborate.

His face scrunched up, and more tears poured from his eyes before he said, “Mary says I won’t be getting any toys this year because I can’t spell!”

_‘Huh?’_   He waved a piece of paper in front of my face as if to say ‘see’ so I gently took the paper from him and read it.  I had to bite my lip to keep from chuckling because I immediately understood what Mary meant when I read the first line, ‘Dear Satan…”

Thinking quickly on my feet and struggling to keep my chuckles at bay I looked at my boy who looked so heartbroken and told him, “While Satan is not the traditional gift bearer this time of year I happen to be on a first name basis with him.  I’ll make sure he gets your letter, and I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to fulfill your requests.”

JoJo’s eyes that looked so much like smaller versions of his mother’s bright cobalt eyes lit up, and he bounced in my lap before asking, “Really?”

I nodded and told him, “I’m certain of it.”

He hugged me tightly making me smile before he told me, “Thank you, Papa.”

I ruffled his blonde hair and told him, “You’re welcome Peanut.  Now, why don’t you go over to your play area and play for a bit while I finish up here and then we’ll go pick up your sister and maybe get some ice cream, okay?”

He nodded his little head up and down so fiercely that I worried it might pop off and roll away before he hopped off my lap, all his tears forgotten, and went to the corner of my office where we kept his toys for days like today when Beth needed me to watch him after school.

I turned to my desk and opened a new email on my laptop.  Addressing the email to my personal assistant, Vincent, I wrote, ‘Please get me a couple of packages of gift tags.  I know I already had you get me some, but I need to change what I wrote, so I need new ones.  This is not a duplicate order.  Also, don’t mention this to Beth.’

**____________________________**

**Tuesday, December 24, 2013; around 11:30 p.m.**

**____________________________**

Christmas Eve.  Oh, how things change in a handful of years.  Ten years ago Mick was the only person I bought a Christmas gift for, well other than my siblings and my employees, I always gave them a little something for the holiday, but Mick was the only other person I gave anything to.  Six years ago Mick and Beth were the only non-family and non-employees I bought gifts for.  Then five years ago Christmas became a very different sort of day for me. 

When I adopted Bella and Beth gave birth to her son, well suddenly I was Santa and damn if it wasn’t fun.  Five years later and I’m apparently Satan now too, and I was crossing my fingers while Beth and I were placing the children’s gifts under the tree that my lovely wife wouldn’t notice the 20 or so packages marked ‘To JoJo, Love Satan.’

Of course, that wish apparently went ungranted a moment later when Beth turned to me holding the box that I knew had JoJo’s new LeapFrog Game System in it and asked, “Um, Josef, why do these gifts say they’re from Satan?”

I smiled gently at her and asked, “Would you believe it’s a typo?”

She giggled but shook her head and said, “Yeah right.  On one gift maybe, on two perhaps your playing a little joke, but on over 20 gifts, all of whom are addressed to JoJo.  What gives, Old Man?”

I put down the gift I was holding and walked to her before taking her into my arms and kissing her softly.  When I pulled away, her eyebrow lifted, and I chuckled and told her, “There really was a typo, just not mine.  JoJo’s class wrote letters to Santa last week.  He came home the other day in tears because his classmates told him he wasn’t going to get anything for Christmas because he couldn’t spell.  Apparently, he addressed his letter to Satan, not Santa.  I assured Peanut that I know Satan well enough to pull some strings and get his letter to Lucifer himself.  Then I had Vincent buy me all new tags, and I rewrote them to say they’re from Satan.”

Beth had tears running down her face halfway through my explanation, so I reached up and gently wiped them away before telling her, “Please don’t cry, Blondie.”

She smiled slightly through her tears and told me, “When I found out I was pregnant, well Josh was dead, Mick was gone, and there was you promising that my child and I would never be alone.  I believed you 100%, but I wondered at first how such an old vampire was going to take to suddenly being a father figure.  Then, of course, Bella came into our lives, and that worry quickly went the way of the DoDo.  This, however, proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are the best daddy ever, even if you are apparently friends with Satan.”

I smiled and leaned down and kissed her before pulling back and saying, “Thank you for that.  For the record, I worried about being a father figure too, so it’s nice to know I’m doing a semi-decent job of it.”

With a smile still firmly on her face she bobbed her head, but while she pulled away, she told me, “It’s true, but _you_ get to explain to all the other kids’ parents why their children are suddenly addressing their Christmas Letters to Satan.”

I chuckled and asked, “What makes you think they’ll do that?”

She giggled again and told me, “Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that my knowledge of you tells me that you, as always, went over the top on Christmas Gifts and it looks like every gift you gave JoJo is signed from Satan.  You always give the best gifts, Josef, and now you’re attributing that phenomenon to Satan _so_ … once JoJo goes to school and tells all his friends about all the amazing gifts he got from Satan, well, you do the math.”

My lips formed into a smirk before I told her, “Well Satan definitely has a reputation to uphold.  I was merely making sure my good friend didn’t lose any street cred.”

She giggles again, or still and smiled a breathtaking smile at me before saying, “Well everything I know about you makes me certain that you did him proud but you’re still stuck dealing with the parents.”

I laughed at that, and we went back to putting all of the children’s gifts under the tree.

JoJo interrupts my story and tells everyone, “The next year Bella wrote her letter to Satan too.  Then Pop signed all of her gifts ‘Love Satan’ too, and to this day all the kids in our family write to Satan, not Santa, and Pop signs all the gifts he gives us kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids ‘Love Satan.’”

Logan grins and adds, “I remember that all your school friends did exactly what Mama said they’d do and that the following year they were all upset because none of their gifts came from Satan.”

JoJo’s cobalt blue eyes crinkle while he chuckles and says, “Well, of course, they did, just like Mama said, Satan gave the best gifts that year, especially compared to the presents the other kids at school got.  Anyway, the next year they all started calling me ‘Satan’s Favorite,’ because I was the only kid in my class regularly getting gifts from Satan.”

The whole room laughs at that and the evening continues a little lighter than before.

 

**The End**


End file.
